


Till Death Do Us Part

by Ascel, The_Marron



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Humor, M/M, so much crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-27 03:05:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ascel/pseuds/Ascel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Marron/pseuds/The_Marron
Summary: Or Five Times Albus Dumbledore Divorced Gellert Grindelwald and One Time He Actually, Legally Could.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time it wasn’t even Gellert’s fault.  What normal human being would notice that while they were delivering the most epic battle speech ever, disguised as a message of peace, one little whatever-that-was  was taking away the one thing it shouldn’t have taken? Who even anticipated magical gold-digging moles at a secret wizard rally? No one, that’s who. But no, apparently he was “outsmarted” by one of Scamander’s pets. Or so said the message Albus Dumbledore sent to him the following day.

For the first time in his life, Gellert Grindelwald received a Howler. And he had been expelled from school in his life, you know.

“THAT IS HOW UNIMPORTANT THIS WAS TO YOU, AND YOU WONDER WHY I NEVER JOINED YOU?” Albus wasn’t even screaming. He was just speaking in loud disapproval. Very loud disapproval.

“I DON’T EVEN HAVE TO FACE YOU AT THE MOMENT, YOU WILL BE BROUGHT DOWN BY A FLABBERWORM, BECAUSE THAT’S HOW CARELESS YOU ARE! THE MOST PRECIOUS AND POWERFUL MAGIC BOND, YOU SAID!”

At this point Gellert wasn’t even sure what exactly Albus was angry about. The fact that he had allowed the blood pact vessel to be stolen? The fact that Gellert apparently had lost in their little game of maintaining mutual inaction? That with the blood pact delivered to his hands Albus had no excuse not to fight him now? Gellert decided to use the scientific method and assume he simply didn’t – and wouldn’t - know.

“AND HERE I AM, HOLDING IT IN MY HAND TWO DAYS AFTER SENDING NEWT TO PARIS. I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT YOU WOULD TREAT YOUR ONLY GUARANTEE OF PEACE MORE SERIOUSLY, BUT THEN AGAIN, WHEN HAVE YOU EVER TREATED ME SERIOUSLY?”

That was uncalled for, Gellert decided, hoping that not all of the Nurmengard could hear the message. That would be awkward to explain to some people. Especially Credence. Gellert could imagine how that particular conversation would go. _Who was that? Oh, just your evil brother who wants to kill you, as I have told you. Why is he shouting at you? Oh, you know Credence, sometimes when two adults want to conquer the world together…_

His thoughts were interrupted by sudden silence. Gellert knew this one too well. This was The Dramatic Pause. They haven’t spoken a word to each other in almost twenty years, but Gellert still remembered everything about Albus’ speech pattern.

The silence meant whatever Albus said now was his final conclusion, the final one-liner which would made the recipient be sorry he ever existed. It was usually delivered in a perfect deadpan tone of voice, and then Albus would turn on his heel and exit the room, or disapparate, or do whatever else he deemed poignant at the moment.

“I want a divorce,” said Albus’s voice through the howler.

What?

 

 

The second time might have been Gellert’s fault, although he would deny everything if asked. Not that anyone would dare to ask. So he got into a fight with Albus’ pet student, Newt Scamander, in the middle of the wizarding part of Rio de Janeiro, but after what happened in Paris Gellert decided to pay extra attention to small creatures trying to touch him, so it was understandable that the moment he felt something small pawing at him, he fought back. Scamander didn’t take kindly to seeing his Niffler (from his shouts it sounded like that was the name of the creature) being stupefied, and Gellert didn’t take kindly to seeing Scamander at all, and somehow it ended up in explosions and two ruined shops. And a bit bruised Scamander, but Gellert didn’t care. What he did care about, however, was that they both got arrested by Brazilian Aurors who decided that European problems were none of their concern – and, without asking their names or anything else - they simply put them in prison.

They have appeared out of nowhere, bound them with house-elf magic (they allowed house-elves to be Aurors?) and transported them straight to some Ancient looking dungeons. Which absorbed all magic. Scamander didn’t even notice he couldn’t use magic, he was too absorbed with pleading for his creatures’ safety. Pathetic. The Brazilians were silent, either not understanding English or pretending not to, and they left the two of them in the same cell. Not the greatest idea.

Scamander sat down on the dirty floor, distraught and miserable, totally ignoring Gellert’s presence. Gellert didn’t mind too much, as he was well aware killing Albus’ protégée in a jail would be rather hard to explain as fighting for the greater good.

“I shouldn’t have come here… My creatures…” Scamander muttered and Gellert turned his attention to him. He still wondered what exactly Albus saw in this boy, why did he decide to forgive him for involuntary death of a child when he couldn’t forgive some other people.  Still, it was talking or brooding, and maybe Scamander knew anything about Albus that he would share… Just for the sake of research, of course.

“What are you even doing in Rio, Mr. Scamander?”

The boy fell silent and shot him a distrustful glare.

“Professor told me not to tell you anything, ever, and I think I’m going to listen to him this time around.”

Ugh. Thanks, Albus. That was one way to get rid of the competition; let them die of boredom.

“As you wish. I’m quite sure your beloved professor will come for you, sooner or later, and you will be back on your merry way, collecting creatures and stealing things,” he replied and naively assumed the conversation was over.

“Why are you so angry about me knowing Dumbledore?” He wasn’t angry. He told Scamander as much, but the man didn’t seem convinced.

“I would simply like to talk to him, but he runs from me and sends me you – a young man who tries to live his life, but can’t, because the great Albus Dumbledore needs him to ruin another one of my plans. “

“You are evil!”

“That’s a matter of opinion. I’m just like you, doing what Albus Dumbledore told me to do once. It’s not my fault he changed his mind in the meantime.” Scamander looked at him incredulously, but didn’t say anything.  No brave retort, no witty response. Really, that was Albus’ new favourite?

“Tell me about your Niffler. I have never seen such a creature.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Do we have anything better to do than talk?”

So talk they did. Scamander had vast knowledge, which although sometimes totally useless, was still impressive. And Gellert found himself involved in discussion about dragons. They had some dragons in Durmstrang and Gellert had always been rather fond of them, because they were powerful and free, and refused to bow down to wizard laws. And they could breathe fire on your enemies, that was a plus too.

They were discussing the difference between Ukrainian and Hungarian breeds in terms of speed, with Scamander being very convincing on the topic of necessary treatment of dragon wings, when they were interrupted by a polite, yet completely fake cough.

“I assume you two are enjoying yourselves?” Asked Albus Dumbledore, wearing his best scowl.

“Yes, we are having a terrific party here, you are not invited,” Gellert replied and Scamander started to look at them in confusion, his eyes darting from one to the other.

“I would never even think about joining you.” Harsh.” I’m here to take Newt.”

Scamander jumped up and approached the bars. Gellert remained sitting, because really, he had some dignity and would not act like a puppy seeing his beloved owner.

“I’d have taken you, too, but you actually deserve to be here.”

That was rude and uncalled for. It was Scamander who blew up that wand shop, Gellert had only burned the apothecary. They were both guilty, but sure, let’s play favourites, Albus.

“I don’t want you to take me out of here. We are at war, you are my enemy, and so on. “ Gellert replied, and Albus had the gall to act all insulted.

“How can you even say that? After everything you’ve put me through, here I am, offering you help and mercy… Oh, fine. Consider this a divorce, then!” What, another one?

Before Gellert could reply, Albus blew up the bars with some Muggle invention and took Newt’s arm, dragging him behind him.

“I will send you a copy of my book, it has instructions how to treat the wounds!” Shouted Scamander in lieu of goodbye, disappearing in the darkness of ancient corridors.

“Don’t send him anything, he can’t take care of a plant, not to mention a dragon.” Was the last thing Gellert heard Albus say.

He wondered if Albus noticed that by getting rid of the bars altogether he still set Gellert free.

Maybe Albus was pretty bad at divorcing people.

 

 

The third time happened while they were dueling.

The day started ordinarily enough: Gellert was just going on his way, being all handsome and dark wizard-y and maybe a little evil, and then Newt Scamander and his merry band got in his way, and then they were in a fight that could, potentially, destroy half a city. Just another day, really.

Until Albus Dumbledore arrived, wand blazing with fire and righteous fury.

“Stop attacking my students,” Albus said as a greeting, in _that_ tone of voice.

“Stop sending them to stop me!” Gellert screamed back at him, because none of this would’ve happened if Albus hadn’t sent Scamander to New York. If he could just pretend to be Percival Graves in peace, MACUSA wouldn’t have caught him, and the blood pact wouldn’t get stolen, and then they wouldn’t have to fight each other at all. But no, Albus just had to meddle, didn’t he?

Which turned out to be a bad thing to say, as Albus started screaming about nefarious ways, betrayals, and destroyed blood pacts.

Well, maybe not exactly screaming, because Albus Dumbledore did not scream. He just talked, very purposefully, with enough anger in his voice to scare a lesser man to death.

Gellert, of course, was not a lesser man. He also didn’t appreciate being accused of breaking a promise when _he_ was not the one to destroy an ancient piece of magic binding them together, so of course it turned into a full blown, magical duel to the death.

Or serious injury, at least, because apparently even with the blood pact gone and in the middle of a violent argument they could not bring themselves to throw lethal curses at each other, couple of old fools that they were.

“You lying, egotistical, self-important-“ Albus enumerated, emphasizing every word with a flick of his wand. At each flick, a fire ball would appear and hurl itself at Gellert.

“Oh, I’m self-important?” Gellert asked, ducking and casting protection charms.

“-maniacal bastard!” Albus continued, while the flames danced around him. He didn’t even sound out of breath. He looked magnificent. “I can’t believe you! I want a divorce.”

“You can’t divorce me,” Gellert said, trying to keep calm and avoid being scorched by the flames his loving opponent sent at him. “We’re not even married.”

“Yes, and whose fault is that?” Albus answered, not missing a beat. “It was all good while we were frolicking in a barn, but the moment things get difficult, you just disappeared! You never even wrote me! I had to learn where you were from _papers_!”

Gellert opened his mouth, thinking about all the factual and perfectly logical reasons they weren’t and couldn’t be married. They were fighting on the opposites sides of war. They hadn’t spoken to each other in twenty years, Albus blamed him for the death of his sister, and Albus’s last family member absolutely hated him. And it wasn’t even legal for two men to marry each other, neither by magical laws nor the Muggle ones.

Then he looked at Albus’s face.

He closed his mouth. If one wanted to rule the world, one really had to learn when to pick one’s fights, and when it was smarter to accept one’s inevitable defeat.

“I don’t think what we did back then could be called frolicking,” he said instead.

Albus hexed him.

Well, he probably did deserve that one, to be honest.

 

 

Ironically enough, the fourth time happened during peace talks.

Gellert never thought he would find himself at actual peace talks, and yet. And yet. Compromises had to be made for the greater good, and the needless blood spilling wasn’t good for anyone, accomplishing some of his goals was better than a long, drawn-out war no one could win, et cetera, et cetera. Or so he told himself. Maybe he was just growing mellow in his old age. Tired, certainly. He had been fighting for more than thirty years; more than half his life.

The fact that maybe, just maybe, if he stopped breaking the law and terrorizing everyone Albus would speak to him again was just an additional bonus.

Fortunately, it turned out the International Confederation of Wizards was quite agreeable to acknowledging him and his followers as a legitimate political movement, as long as it also meant they would stop terrorizing magical and non-magical people, refrained from using violence, ceased all hostile actions and respected the local governments.

It probably helped that Albus Dumbledore was widely thought to be the next in line to be the Supreme Mugwump.

Officially, Gellert wasn’t a member of his newly-born political party. It seemed no one wanted him there: his own people feared a trap, while the representatives of the various governments had no wish to talk to a man called a criminal and murderer for years. It suited him quite well. He had no interest in prolonged piss-contests while various parties threw blame at each other.

Unofficially, he was meeting Albus Dumbledore to work out finer points of the treaty. Not alone, sadly. It seemed no one trusted them to be left alone for more than five minutes and not destroy the building they were in – or do other things, judging by the way Scamander was eyeing them both – so they were each to be accompanied by a trusted aide

Albus brought Newt Scamander, of course. Gellert assumed it was just to get on his nerves.

Gellert chose Rosier. She was intelligent, capable, and not easily ruffled. He would’ve preferred to take Queenie, actually, but it seemed rude to bring a Legilimens to negotiations.

“You know,” Gellert said, feeling a little maudlin and melancholic. “Years ago, when we first met each other, I had a vision of the two of us deciding fates of the world. I didn’t imagine it would come true like this.”

“That’s because your Sight is bollocks.” Albus didn’t even look up from the papers in front of him.

Scamander groaned.

And so it went, until they had all of the major issues worked out.

“There’s one more thing,” Albus said, looking perfectly calm, composed, and serious. “I want a divorce.”

Gellert stared at him. And stared. And then stared some more.

Albus didn’t even blink, that bastard.

Gellert risked a glance at Rosier, but she was just sitting there and smirking and being altogether much too French. She was probably laughing at him internally, too.

Scamander, meanwhile, looked like he was trying to stop himself from banging his head on the table. And losing. It was good that at least one other person in the room realized how insane Albus was.

It was unsettling to feel any sort of kinship with Scamander, out of all people, but what could he do. And the lad had actually sent him the book, too. At least someone could make good on his word, unlike some others.

Geller looked back at Albus.

“Not _again_ ,” he said finally.

Rosier actually laughed at that. Gellert knew he should’ve taken Queenie.

 

 

The fifth time, Gellert maintained, did not happen at all.

They were finally, officially at peace. There was no more war or opposing sides, no more battles or duels. More than thirty years had passed and they had changed the world. They hadn’t spoken a word without any other people present through all that time.

And then, Albus met him at the cliffs of Dover, at the borders of England, a country Gellert left thirty years ago. A country he was coming back to.

It should’ve been simple. Romantic, even. But there was too much hurt between them, too many unspoken words and betrayals. The world might’ve changed, but what was between them was always more simple and personal and potent than warring ideologies.

“I love you,” Gellert said, and it was a start.

And so they talked, at the brim of the sea, with only crashing waves as a witnesses.

In the end, words were only sounds. They were not enough. But as they stood there, two figures staring at the sea, the words were a good start.

“I did not think it would end up like this,” Gellert said after a while.

“Do you regret it?” Albus asked.

“No,” Gellert answered, and was surprised himself at how honest it was, “No, I don’t.”

Albus nodded. He stayed silent for a moment, then said: “I destroyed our blood troth.”

It was Gellert’s turn to nod and look away. It was not an apology, not quite, he didn’t deserve one, either way. If Albus was the one to destroy the pact, it was only because Gellert’s action brought them to that point.

It was one more hurt they would have to learn to live with.

“There will be other promises,” he said, weaving their fingers together.

“Other promises?” Albus repeated, smiling, and Gellert couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Other promises,” he agreed, “and other barns to frolic in.” And then Gellert actually laughed, because Albus threw Rictusempra at him.

“Other arguments, too, I suppose,” Gellert added. “For one, we have to find you some new clothes.”

Albus didn’t say anything to that, so Gellert turned to him, expectant, and then froze.

Albus had a peculiar look on his face. It was a look Gellert learned to recognize, if only because he had seen it often during the last few years. But he definitely, absolutely did not wish to see it again. He knew what would follow.

Albus opened his mouth.

“Don’t say it,” Gellert threatened, thinking of all the violent and lethal curses he could throw at his great antagonist, who also happened to be the love of his life. Oh, the irony. “Do not-“

“Di-“ Albus started. Gellert disapparated before he could actually finish the word.

It did not count if he didn’t hear it, right?

 

 

Bonus scene:

“-vorce,” Albus finished, staring at the spot where Gellert stood moments ago. How rude, to disapparate in the middle of conversation. Yet _he_ was the one who was being dramatic, wasn’t he?

There was a movement in the sky, and then Fawkes was landing at his shoulder. He probably followed them since the beginning, but didn’t want to interrupt their conversation. He was a smart beast. Much smarter than both of them, actually.

“You know,” Albus said to the phoenix. “If I knew a threat of divorce was all it took to stop him from actually waging a war, I’d have started using it a lot sooner.”

Fawkes chirped at him.

“Mhm, yes, I think so too,” Albus agreed. “It would’ve been a lot easier if we were actually married. Well, we still have time, don’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things we are ignoring here: actual politics of the wizarding world, Grindelwald's crimes and radicalism, and angst resulting from Ariana's death. But hey, what would be life without crack, right? Or too much coffee, in our case. We really shouldn't be allowed to plot together.
> 
> Merry Christmas, everyone!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the thrilling tale of Dumbledore divorcing his way out of every problem continues.

+1

1975

Newt wasn't exactly sure why it had to be him.

Sure, he was aware Grindelwald had no friends whatsoever and that Dumbledore often said Newt was his favourite student, but it was still a bit too much. The best man? Him?

He was ready to run away in the middle of his own brother's wedding! Oh, wait, he actually did run away in the middle of Thesesus's wedding, but it was because there was a wild re'em running outside the church. In the middle of London! Any sane person would have decided to check that one out. So he had a good excuse, at least. Not that Theseus agreed. And it was somehow Grindelwald's fault too, if Newt remembered correctly, so his presence here became even more curious.

Still, he was the one standing in the White Hall of the Ministry of Magic, in his best suit, two golden bands in his hand (he didn't trust his pockets. Pickett was still unpredictable, after all). In front all of these people.

And there were lots and lots of people. There was the Minister himself, Harold Minchum, with a sour expression fixed on his face. From what Newt knew, he wasn't Dumbledore's greatest fan.Then again, no Minister ever was.

Next to him there was Barty Crouch, the current head of the Aurors. He was also frowning and had his wand in his hand. Not the greatest fan of Grindelwald, it seemed.

More and more people were coming inside the White Hall and Newt was getting nervous. With so many people present something bad was bound to happen. Somewhere in the crowd he could spot the amused smile of Vinda Rosier. The age had taken away her sharp beauty, but not her grace, and certainly not her smirk. She looked like a loyal fan on a Quidditch match. Newt was hit with a bad feeling.

The Ministry’s official, some man named Fudge, was looking around, clearly impatient.  
The round chamber was almost full now, with people talking animatedly and sitting down on white chairs in merry chaos. Newt saw some people who might have been of foreign descent, which suggested that Grindelwald had some actual family. Surprising.

Oh, and Bathilda Bagshot was here too! Newt would have to talk to her at the reception to see if she was willing to include an errata in her _History of Hogwarts_ : the creatures inside the Forbidden Forrest eating so much grass and little animals weren't the demiguises, but this new fascinating species called Thestrals and...

The door on the other side of the room opened and Newt shot the last look at his wife. Tina, wonderful soul that she was, waved at him and raised the Niffler in her arms so that he could see she still had him. Thank Merlin. Newt didn't trust this creature to be left alone ever again. Especially not at this ceremony. It was its fault, after all.

The first thing that left the door was the phoenix. It flew gracefully along the path made by the white carpet and sat down on the nearest bench. Fudge's brow started to twitch. Newt felt a sudden wave of compassion for the man.

Finally, the two men of the hour entered the chamber and the phoenix started to sing. At this point, Dumbledore has outdone all the royal weddings Newt has heard of. He could feel the beginning of a headache.

And then he looked closely at the couple.

And decided that this was the last wedding he would ever attend.

Dumbledore's robe was like a rainbow. It sparkled with milliards of colours and it looked as if Dumbledore decided to become a fantastic creature himself. The effect was... arresting, to say the least.

Grindelwald, on the other hand, looked like Death himself. He was dressed all in black, in a fitting suit, with a navy blue tie, and for the first time Newt has seen it – without his favourite coat. His face betrayed the internal fight he had with himself every time his eyes darted to his betrothed’s attire. Newt could relate. Yet Grindelwald pressed on, his hand firmly holding Dumbledore's. It must be true love, then.

As they were making their way towards Newt and now clearly distressed Fudge, Newt spotted a familiar figure in the second row on his left. Credence. He had always wondered, what happened to him after that fiasco in Paris. As he watched the man's behaviour, Newt started to have an inkling. Credence was behaving exactly like a little zouwu cub, watching its mother's courtship with a new mate – hopeful (zouwu mates for a lifetime, but cubs need to be raised with both parents, so when the father dies...) and scared at the same time, worried that its mother will abandon it for the family she creates with a new partner. Though Newt didn't know which one of the grooms was the mother in this scenario, it was clear that Credence was attached and deeply affected by the ceremony.

Well, to be quite honest, the whole wizarding would be deeply affected by this ceremony, but Newt preferred not to think of it.

The happy couple, meanwhile, safely arrived at the altar, and was busing themselves with starring deeply into each other’s eyes. Dumbledore looked like he was about to cry; if you looked closely, you could see his lower lip trembling. More terrifyingly, Grindelwald was actually smiling. Not smirking, as he was known to do, or laughing menacingly. Smiling.

Fudge looked like he had swallowed a lemon.

Newt definitely had a headache.

He could swear that when the vows where finally exchanged, a collective sigh of relief could be heard.

Not much could go wrong at this point, right?

 

Newt was just starting to enjoy the reception party – the alcohol was very good quality, and Bathilda Bagshot turned out to be a wonderful conversationalist, with the most fascinating stories on both grooms – when Tina appeared at his shoulder, looking harried and stressed.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a strained smiled. “But I need to borrow my husband for just a minute.”

“Oh, it’s no bother, my dear.” Bathilda seemed to be in quite agreeable mood. The wine probably helped. “Just be sure to owl me. These thestrals you mentioned, a most fascinating matter…”

Newt decided he really liked her.

“Newt, it’s the niffler,” Tina hissed, while leading him away. “It’s gone.”

Newt felt suddenly, irritatingly sober. Of course that little menace would find a way to slip away.

They split up to look for him. Time really was of essence here – they had to find the niffler before he stole something serious. Or worse, before Grindelwald decided he was still very much a Dark Lord and heartless enough to use stunning spells on innocent, fluffy animals. The man really was ruthless.

It wasn’t anywhere near the main tables and the cutlery appeared to still be there, at least mostly. It wasn’t near the gifts with their golden wrappings, or by the bottles of champagne, or even near the enormous golden jewellery of pureblood ladies present. Or by the crystal statue of phoenix standing near the fountains. (Newt wondered whose idea that monstrosity was – it really hurt to look at it. Then again, there were magical fountains with rainbow-coloured water in the middle of the reception hall.)

In short, the little bastard really didn’t want to be found.

When Newt finally spotted him, it was after half an hour of frantic searching, hiding behind the urinals in men’s restroom and playing with something small and shiny.

“Ha!” Newt exclaimed upon catching the slippery pest. Well, not such a pest, really; after all, it only wanted to play a little and didn’t do anyone much harm, and it was their own fault they let it out of their sights.

Then he saw what it was playing with.

Oh no.

 

Newt found both grooms at the main table, looking quite cosy and happy and very unlike their normal selves. They were even holding hands, and Grindelwald didn’t even cringe every time he looked at Dumbledore’s robes.

It was a pretty picture, one almost unsettlingly cute.

Newt had a sinking feeling he was about to destroy that bliss.

“Oh, Newt!” Dumbledore smiled at him. “I wondered where you were, you missed the first toast. Gellert gave the most wonderful speech.”

Newt realized the Supreme Mugwump of International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts School Witchcraft and Wizardy was, in fact, making heart eyes at his villainous, newly-wedded husband.

Definitely an unsettling sight.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, Professor,” Newt said, avoiding looking at both of them, but especially Grindelwald. “I believe this belongs to you.”

And gave Dumbledore the golden wedding band.

Dumbledore looked at the ring Newt handed him, then at the ring still sitting securely at his own finger, and then at the ring in his hand again. Then he looked at his newly-wedded husband.

“You’ve lost your wedding band?” he asked, in a deceptively calm voice. “After barely an hour of marriage?”

“Err,” said Grindelwald.

Newt decided, quite resolutely, that it was a good moment to leave a party. Excellent, as a matter of fact. He already knew what would happen next, after all.

 

*

 

_**Albus Dumbledore Divorces a Dark Lord After One Hour Of Marriage**!_

_The Dumbledore-Grindelwald wedding has been the talk of the wizarding world for months. Since our lovely correspondent Rita Skeeter learnt of the date, every reader of The Prophet was waiting in anticipation. Will the most influential couple of all times (as voted by our readers, they have surpassed even Merlin and Morgana!) finally tie knot?_

_Not for long, as it turned out. Despite the phoenix's song and Dumbledore's dazzling (and quite horrendous) attire, troubles in paradise started shortly after the ceremony._

_During the reception, after Gellert Grindelwald (57), the Dark Lord of the Year (as voted by the readers of Witch Weekly) had delivered a touching toast, Albus Dumbledore (87) stood up and announced that he wanted a divorce._

_The best man, Newton Salamander (64), a magizoologist, has disapparated from the hall along with his wife, Propretina (63)._

_None of the Ministry's officials had any courage to comment on this political fiasco, but some of the guests voiced their lack of surprise at Dumbledore's actions._

_"I didn't expect anything else," replied Vinda Rosier, a very attractive witch and Grindelwald's trusted confidante._

_"That behaviour was atrocious. And so were his clothes!" Said Cornelius Fudge, the man who took their oaths._

_"Why does it always end up like this?" Asked Credence Barebone (45) with a haunted look in his eyes. From what our correspondent learnt, this wasn't the first time Albus Dumbledore has made a scene and abandoned his lover due to his tantrums._

_Unfortunately, before we could learn more about the tragic fallout, Gellert Grindelwald himself burned Rita's quill while screaming "Stop your scribbling!". Then he joined Albus Dumbledore in the corner of the room, where they discussed something in hushed voices – presumably the conditions of dissolving their shot-lived marriage – as the rest of the guests enjoyed the party._

_And although the failed newly-weds had left the building hand in hand and were seen at Hogwarts together with a moving crew, you heard it here first – the most influential couple is no more. We can just hope that next time Gellert Grindelwald will set his sights on someone more stable. Or at least with a better fashion sense._

_Rita Skeeter_

 

This article had been cut out from the _Daily Prophet_ and was now proudly hanging on the wall in their shared chamber at Hogwarts.

It wasn't alone, for it was soon joined by "Nepotism on the Highest Level: Albus Dumbledore Hires His Ex-Husband", "For Lack of Better Options: Albus Dumbledore Named The Best Wizard of All Times" and "Fifth Anniversary of the Doomed Couple: Dumbledore Threatens Divorce Again", but the first one has a special place in their hearts.

It was, after all, the first time Albus Dumbledore could divorce anyone, legally and truly.  
  
Not that he ever did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the ending :-)
> 
> Few notes:
> 
> 1975 - because it is more or less the time when homosexuality is no longer a crime nor a disease in UK and we assume wizards are a bit more progressive with marriage, since there is no religious aspect to account for.
> 
> Harold Minchum is the Minister of Magic in 1975, so he makes the appearance
> 
> Merlin and Morgana are not a reference to BBC's Merlin series, because then we'd have to write "Merlin and Arthur". In one of the versions of Arthurian legend, Morgana studies magic with Merlin and they become lovers who are later separated by conflict - he supports Arthur, Morgana becomes Arthur's greatest enemy because he stole her throne. A bit similar to our love-birds, right?
> 
> Every mistake in Rita's text is intentional. We know that according the info on Pottermore, Grindelwald should be 92 and Newt 68, but we do not trust Pottermore much - it claims that Credence and Tina were born in the same year. How??? So we decided to have fun with ages and with Rita's distaste for Dumbledore.
> 
> Tell us what you think and Happy New Year!
> 
> EDIT: Please go take a look at [Glacier](https://darklordslove.tumblr.com/)'s [wonderful art](https://darklordslove.tumblr.com/post/181611586891/the-marron-and-dobranocka-s-fic-be-like-link)! It's amazing and we won't be shutting up about it.


End file.
